Stripped by Karolyn James Page A

his eyes.
    Those eyes.
    Those fucking eyes.
    Her left hand touched her right wrist, feeling a tingle of pain.
    Gunnar...
    It was Gunnar.
    Gunnar wasn’t Gunnar... Gunnar was Bryce.
    “Shit,” Emily cried out as she fell back towards the bar.

8.
     
    ‘Torn’ tore through the club ending with a long winded guitar riff as all the lights turned off.  The crowd cheered and Gunnar leaned back, his tall silhouette frozen in place.  The band stayed silent, letting the crowd pump itself up, ready for the next song.   They then kicked into radio friendly song, ‘Lost Spirit’, with Gunnar remaining in his statue like state until it came their time to sing.  Again, the spotlight flooded his sexy body, and again, he stared at Emily the entire time he sang.
    Even from the distance - the stage to the bar - Emily could see the crisp color of his blue eyes.  Both his hands held the microphone tight, giving Emily erotic memories of the night before.  She wondered if he squeezed the mic as tight as he squeezed her wrists and nipple. 
    When the song reached a clean sounding bridge, allowing Gunnar’s voice to overtake the entire band, Ann side stepped toward Emily.
    “Fucking amazing, isn’t it?”
    “It is,” Emily said loudly. “I have to tell you something.  About Gunnar.”
    “He’s beautiful.”
    “Ann...”
    The drums beat in a building rhythm, leading to a guitar solo that ripped through the club, front to back, with the lead guitarist holding the guitar vertically, his fingers coming dangerously close to sliding off the neck of the guitar.  Something about that sound made Emily want to jump and cheer.  He climbed down the neck of the guitar with a fast and final run, setting up the song’s finale, going back to the intro riff and into one quick verse and two choruses. 
    Another perfect song.
    At the end of it, the band stopped and the light stayed on Gunnar.
    “What’s up?” he cried out, bringing the crowd to a frantic scream. 
    Everyone pushed and fought, desperate to gain an inch to get closer to the band.  Emily watched from the bar at the sea of people, moving like a pissed off ocean wave, wanting to get to the shore.  Little did any of them know - including Ann - that Emily hadn’t just gotten to shore, she’d gotten to fool around in the sand with Gunnar.
    “Everyone ready for a little music tonight?” Gunnar asked.  He laughed and nodded, loving the energy.  “I got to tell you, you all packing these small places are making it hard for us to keep touring like this.”
    “We fucking love you!” someone shouted.
    “And we fucking love you too,” Gunnar said.  He threw his left hand in the air, the signal for the drummer to kick off the next song.
    One... two... three... four...
    “And the rain came down,” Gunnar said in a sweet, whispery voice, the lead guitarist playing a clean intro riff.
    The song was ‘Pouring’, a semi-ballad that built heavier as it went along.
    Emily reached for Ann’s wrist and pulled at her, desperate to tell her that Gunnar had been the man from last night. 
    The song made the crowd move but it was Gunnar who brought them to life.  He started to move along the stage, singing and engaging in his band.  Then he took to the edge of the stage, reaching out to what looked like a million hands, all wanting the chance to touch their favorite rockstar.  He sang overlooking the crowd, holding the mic out when he felt like it, picking up where the audience left off, and never for a second, missing a beat.  The band really belonged in an arena, on a huge stage.  Gunnar could work a crowd of twenty thousand with ease.  Hell, he could do a stadium tour, bringing more fans to a football stadium than athletes. 
    The energy in the room intensified by the second, ready to lift the roof off the small club.  Emily understood what Gunnar wanted.  He didn’t want to just play a stadium, he wanted to own the stadiums and the big stages.  He didn’t want to